


Painkillers

by Flick (raynon)



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album)
Genre: M/M, fellas is it gay to blow your homies?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:01:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25245814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raynon/pseuds/Flick
Summary: Fun Ghoul recovers from getting shot, Jet Star's more than willing to help out.
Relationships: Fun Ghoul/Jet Star
Kudos: 12





	Painkillers

**Author's Note:**

> idk, felt like writing a rarepair. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

It was a run-of-the-mill clap, Dracs crossed paths with the Killjoys on a supply run around the mouth of a canyon at Zone 3. Kobra defended the Trans Am from taking too much damage, Poison was off to his left, and Jet and Ghoul ended up trying to flank, ending up being the ones with the least amount of cover. Not that Ghoul cared much; he was a quick enough to shoot first, most of the time.

Mere seconds passed as Ghoul tried to dive behind a large rock when it felt like his left hip down to his knee blazed hot with pain. He toppled over and rolled a few extra feet, howling at first until he needed to breathe. Okay, there was no immediate death. His groin was still burning like a motherfucker, though when he looked down at himself, there was no fire. Just wispy tendrils of smoke and blood. Oh, _shit, that's a lot of blood._ His head flopped back into the sand, feeling his pulse skyrocket.

"Ghoul, you still alive?" Jet called out, but hadn't gotten a response fast enough. "Ghoul!"

_"If they shot my fuckin' dick off, I'm fuckin' nuking that city, fuck!"_

Ghoul, rage overtaking him at the potential loss, shifted back up on his knees and launched a grenade tucked in his vest under the Dracs' getaway car.

Jet waited for the explosion to go off before running to Ghoul and assessing the damage. "You still got your dick, calm down." That was the good news, anyway. The bad news was that, _holy shit, that's a lot of blood._

"Gimme your blaster," Ghoul commanded. "I'll cover you."

Jet huffed and handed it over, wasting a few precious seconds mentally scolding Ghoul for his reckless nature, but the sentiment would be appreciated if they lived through this. Ghoul held surprisingly still for Jet pressing his hands all over his groin, no complaints or warnings or anything. The wound itself could have been a lot worse; Ghoul's femoral artery was barely grazed. The heat of the blast singed his flesh pretty bad, but it still bled. "Sit the fuck down, Party & Kobes got this." The sounds of battle were getting quiet as it were. Jet tugged Ghoul off his knees and pushed him to lean back.

"Give it to me straight, Medic. Is there any hope for me?" Ghoul sighed with a little too much melancholy.

Jet, with two fingers plugged into Ghoul's flesh, glanced up at his face. "I would never give anything to you straight, cowboy." Clenching his jaw, he tore the inner seam of Ghoul's jeans wide open.

Ghoul snorted and handed Jet's blaster back. "Thanks."

"Ghoulie!" Party raced over when all was quiet, having grabbed the med pack from the Trans Am. He tore his own mask off and stuffed it in his pocket. "Saw you go down, what happened?"

"Oh, y'know. Almost gettin' castrated, same ol' same ol'." Ghoul blew out a breath in frustration. The feeling wasn't targeted at Poison; he was already tired of being wounded. He knew the next week or so was going to suck the most ass.

Kobra was the last to join, and his face paled at the puddle of blood that had accumulated beside Ghoul. "Shit, Ghoul--"

"He'll be fine. Someone get the moonshine from the pack and find something for Ghoul to bite," Jet barked.

"Wait, hold up--" Ghoul pushed himself to sit up more, his breath hitched.

Jet took his blaster to fire off a round into a rock wall as Poison squirms himself to press up against Ghoul's back. He'd taken his belt off and folded it in half, shoving it between Ghoul's teeth, much to his protest. The colorful thread of curses were all but incoherent vowels, and Poison struggled to get Ghoul to hold still.

"It'll be over soon, sugar," Poison murmured, though he had his own eyes closed.

Ghoul's worked himself so much that small rivulets of drool poured over his bottom lip, and his muscles seized up painfully tight when the smoking barrel of Jet's blaster was shoved against the wound. One of his hands clawed the sand below while Kobra held the other.

Kobra handed over the moonshine, and when Party was brave enough to open his eyes again, he wiped the sweat from Ghoul's forehead.

Ghoul, with eyes half-lidded, let his jaw fall open loosely to get the belt out and his tongue lolled out in disgust. "Fuckin'...salty," he whined, then coughed.

Once Jet got a hold of the gauze and tied the wound off, he sat back on his heels. "That should do it until we get back. Ghoul, you still breathin'?"

"'Want that shit sucker's gun. Gimme," he grunted, and tried to sit up again despite his equilibrium struggling to stay level.

Party's back straightened. "I saw which one it was." As Kobra and Jet slowly lifted Ghoul up by the shoulder, the leader shifted back and got up to pluck the blaster off the corpse.

Ghoul hocked up whatever settled at the back of his throat and spat at the closest body he passed as one final act of revenge before he was laid down horizontally in the back seat. Jet settled himself at Ghoul's feet and kept his bad leg elevated for the drive home. By the time everyone was in the Trans Am, Ghoul perked up. "D'ya get it?"

Poison waved the blaster in his hand. "Y'can't have it until you're better, though."

Ghoul scowled. "Bitch boy." His vision blurred and he dozed off.

"Love you, too, Ghoulie." Party turned his head back to smirk at him.

* * *

Jet sat at the counter in the diner with measuring cups, water, and salt. Poison knew it was more ideal not to break Jet's concentration, but this was necessary. He rested a hand on Jet's shoulder. "Hey, me 'n Kid are gonna hit up Tommy's and see if he has anything that can help Ghoul."

Jet didn't raise his gaze, but he nodded. "Yeah. Be safe," he murmured.

"He's, uh, awake," Party mentioned as Kobra stepped in, nodding to Party that he was ready to roll out.

"Thanks. I'll check on 'im in two shakes of a jackrabbit's tail." A small smile cracked out the corner of Jet's lips. He listened to Poison and Kobra open the front door and leave, and finished mixing his saline solution to carry it back to Ghoul's room.

Ghoul was miserably sprawled out on his mattress, fiddling with the knobs on the radio beside him. Anything to try and distract his brain, because, _fuck,_ his leg fucking _hurt._ When he heard the door open, he raised a brow. "Hey, got anything for me?"

"Just hydration, for now." Jet ignored Ghoul's aggravated groan as he refilled the IV bag duct taped to the wall. "Pois & Kid are scouting for something to make it more tolerable. I'm sorry it hurts right now."

"At this point, I'd fuckin' take anything t'make it hurt less." Ghoul huffed, rolling onto his back to hopelessly stare at the cracked ceiling. "My fuckin' brain feels like steel wool."

Jet set his measuring cup aside to sit beside Ghoul. He rested a gentle hand on his good thigh. "You're holding up really well."

"S'only been two days," Ghoul bitterly reminded him.

"Yeah. Two days of progress." Jet's fingers spanned out over Ghoul's bare skin. The patient was only wearing boxers and bandages; it was just easier that way. "Try not to move around too much, cowboy. That blood loss fucked you up pretty bad." His thumb rubbed tiny circles over the edge of one of his vast tattoos: a kabuki mask spitting fire.

Ghoul just groaned again and pressed his arm over his eyes. "There ain't nothin' that you can do? Shit, Jets, don't orgasms help with pain? I mean I'm willing to take _anything."_

Jet bit his tongue. His eyes wandered down Ghoul's body without thinking. "Well, yeah." Of course he hated watching Ghoul suffer, and the only thing that was really holding him back was the fact that Ghoul probably hadn't replenished all of his blood yet. He chewed on his inner lip. "You gotta promise me to keep still. Could you do that?"

Ghoul swallowed hard, audibly, and nodded. "Please, Jet."

"Wow, desperate enough to be polite? It really _is_ that bad," Jet teased, his voice only a whisper. The pads of his fingers pressed deeper into Ghoul's good thigh, slowly sliding upwards until he skimmed over the bottom hem of his boxers. He moved himself to settle between Ghoul's knees.

"Fuck you, I know threats don't fuckin' work on you." Ghoul's chest rose and fell indignantly. "Y'should hear the shit goin' through my head right now." Already, his hips twitched when Jet ran his fingers over the outline of Ghoul's still-soft cock.

"Think you got enough blood to get it up?" Jet's smile grew.

"I swear on the fuckin' Witch, Jet." Ghoul's teeth gnashed.

Jet leaned down and pressed his lips over the sparse trail of dark hair below Ghoul's navel. "It's gonna be okay, I'm here," he purred. "You're gonna be okay." His hands pressed down against Ghoul's hips to keep them from moving, and hooked his fingers under his waistband.

Ghoul's hand reached down to bury in Jet's wild curls, pushing them back from his face. "S'gettin' hot in here."

Jet hummed to acknowledge that he'd heard Ghoul, making very careful work of removing the boxers without touching any bandages. "You're gorgeous, Ghoul. Really." He leaned down once more and nuzzled over a prominent vein on Ghoul's hip. "Fuckin' work of art."

Ghoul's breath hitched. "Yeah? Take a closer look," he thought aloud, his grunts melting into desperate whimpers. "C'mon, starman."

Jet dragged his teeth over Ghoul's pelvis, his cheek brushing over his growing length. He chuckled breathily when he felt Ghoul's hand trying to guide him to his dick, and he finally took pity and licked his lips before kissing the underside of his dick. Parting his lips, he slid up to the tip and took it into his mouth.

Ghoul swallowed again. "Yeah, yeah, that's good."

Still holding Ghoul's hips down, Jet slowly sank down until his nose brushed against the thick dark curls at the base, staying there until the need for oxygen overtook him. He kept his rhythm slow, working Ghoul up until he was fully hard. His mouth popped off for a moment, letting a hand stroke him a few times. Glancing back up to Ghoul's face, he took in the sight of him all flushed and unwound. He was already looking better. "Already gettin' your color back," he said, sparing one kiss for Ghoul's warm, red chest.

Ghoul locked gazes with Jet and smirked back at him. "I need more, baby."

"I know, I know. Cool your boots." Jet slid back down so his mouth could return to swallowing Ghoul, taking him in as much as he could.

Ghoul's grunting started to come back with a vengeance when his hips kept being pressed down into the mattress. What he wouldn't give to fuck Jet's mouth, but something about being held down also awoke something new in him. The ache in his leg dulled slightly, enough that it wasn't the most prominent thing on his mind. Still, as good as Jet felt on him, he still wanted more. He must have gone quiet, because Jet raised his head to look up at him again.

"What's goin' on in there, Ghoul?" Jet asked, his breath ghosting over Ghoul's tip. "Talk to me."

The first thing to tumble out of Ghoul's mouth was a slur of vowels, and a faint stammer. Shutting his eyes, he took a breath. "Still hurts, s'all. You're...really good, Jets, like...I'm pissed y'stopped. But--"

Jet paused for a moment, squinted, then nodded. "I got you." He pulled away completely and crawled off the mattress.

"Jet, what the fuck?" Ghoul whined.

Jet snorted in laughter as he rummaged through the med pack leaned up against the wall. "Trust me," he responded, pulling out a small tube before he returned to his position.

Ghoul propped himself up on his elbows, trying to calm his trembling. His fingers curled up into loose fists as he watched Jet uncap something and squeeze some sort of loose gel over his index & middle fingers.

"Did I say you could sit up?" Jet tossed the tube to the floor and nudged Ghoul's shoulder's back. "Relax. Tension's only gonna make things worse."

Ghoul's mouth watered, as if on instinct. He took a breath and lifted his good leg up until his knee pressed against his chest. "Please, hurry the fuck up."

Jet nodded. "If anything feels wrong--"

"I'll let you know, Jet. Stop fucking stalling."

He sighed in attempt to keep his own patience, and pressed the top knuckle of his index finger inside Ghoul. Once the tightness loosened enough, he continued further and formed a rhythm. He pressed hard kisses along Ghoul's base and lower to his balls.

Ghoul tensed up and yelped when Jet accidentally brushed over the bandages.

"Shit, sorry," Jet backed his face up, though his finger still kept moving.

Ghoul pet through his hair again. "S'okay. The other part felt really good."

Jet curled his finger slightly, watching Ghoul try to squirm. "You good?"

Ghoul's fingers tightened in his hair. "More, Jet."

"I got you." Jet slid his finger out, wasting little time as two fingers slid back in as a quicker pace. He curled both of them again, and smiled with pride when Ghoul's back arched.

"Shhhhhh _it, yeah._ Do that again."

Jet took Ghoul's dick in his mouth and matched the rhythm of his tongue with his fingers, humming along to the cacophony of lewd noises starting to spill from Ghoul's throat. He could taste the sccumulating salt, driving him to suck harder.

"Motherfuckin', Jet-- Jet. Keep going." Ghoul's hips thrust against the one hand still trying to keep them down with a little more success. "Jet, _fuck._ I'm gonna fuckin' come in your m-- oh, _fuck!"_ He could hardly finish his statement before releasing into Jet's mouth, just as he promised.

Not that Jet seemed to mind much. Popping his mouth off for the last time, he swallowed and kissed his hip for good measure. "Still alive, cowboy?"

Ghoul was panting, his hands pressed hard over his face as he collected himself. Once Jet's hand had freed his hips, he rolled onto his side. "Leg still hurts."

"How much?" Jet tried to take the statement seriously, though he was mostly sure Ghoul was just being an ass.

Ghoul pouted at Jet. "Can we do it again? I can see static"

Jet rolled his eyes and mussed Ghoul's hair. "You need to rest, and be careful. Gonna jostle your IV." Pushing the black strands away from his eyes, his expression softened. "Seriously Did it help?"

Ghoul nodded, fighting fluttering eyelids. "Thanks, Jets. I owe ya."

Jet watched him for another minute before pulling a sheet up to his stomach. "If you want, I'm not gonna turn it down."

"Jet?" Ghoul's eyes were closed, but he remained awake. "One more thing...'fit's okay with you." The silence that followed was a bit unnerving to Ghoul, but he continued on anyway. "Kiss me?" At first, he thought his request was going to be denied as Jet's weight lifted from the mattress, but he immediately relaxed again upon feeling the other's fingers tilt his chin up and press their lips together with enough force not to bruise, but enough to mean something.

"I'm gonna go get you something light to eat," Jet whispered, pressing one more light kiss to the shell of Ghoul's ear before he got up for real.

Ghoul idly skimmed his fingers over the places where he could still feel Jet's touch, reveling in the release of tension.


End file.
